This, a barefoot year. This a year of loose pants and hooded sweatshirts, this a year of boots lonely and left waiting in front halls and back closets, this a year of untouched luggage. I miss my boots, miss the ground they tread upon, I miss the laces and the pulling snug, miss the smell of leather when scented with Scottish rain and decaying leaves. I miss the me that filled those boots, the wanderlust and hope pulsing like blood running thick, I miss tired legs leading to worn out feet, I miss washing away a day of adventure in the shower before bed.
I know stillness has its virtue, I know it’s valuable too, but I’ll be damned if I don’t miss the boots, the laces, the leaves, the wander.
I think this is ok. I think we put too much pressure on ourselves to feel a certain way, to be positive despite the shit that life throws at us, to always find the bright side. I’m here to say, to hell with all that. Be you, experience the highs and the lows, celebrate the victories, mourn the losses, all the while understanding that the highs will come down, the lows will rise again. Nothing is permanent, least of all we.
Get your boots ready, for they’ll be needed again sometime soon.
On we pull the boots,
out and off our walking feet.
Adventure we seek.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
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Aw yes wet boots, cold dewy mornings, hikes all day...can't wait for more of that. Hauling backpacks on to planes, stepping out into new frontiers.....